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“‘Okay,’ what?”
“‘Okay,’ I believe you.”
“You do?”
I nodded.
“So is that a yes, then?”
“To what?”
“To the date.”
“Yes,” I said, more determined with each word. “Yes.”
That’s when we heard, “Jack?” again from Doc in the back bedroom.
“Yes, sir?”
“The fire pit? Sometime before the sun’s up?”
“Yes, sir.”
I expected Jack to walk off then, but instead, he leaned closer, catching himself on the wall behind me. He brought his face very close, still a little breathless, he lingered there for a second, and then he put his mouth on mine again—this time softer, and sweeter, all lips and warmth and silkiness.
And I just melted into it.
His hand was against the wall, and we weren’t touching anywhere else… but there was absolutely nowhere I didn’t feel it.
And when he pulled back, he looked as lost as I felt.
Then he seemed to remember something, and he gave me a sly smile.
“What?” I asked.
The smile deepened, and he looked down at the beaded pin against my neck and then back up to my eyes. And then, as he took a reluctant, almost woozy step backward, he pointed at me, like Gotcha.
“You,” he said then, “owe me a thousand dollars.”
